


Displays

by Brigdh



Category: Swordspoint - Kushner
Genre: Backstory, Established Relationship, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Swordplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 09:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brigdh/pseuds/Brigdh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec becomes the Duke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Displays

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 31_days prompt, "You might as well live". Set between Swordspoint and The Privilege of the Sword, with possible vague spoilers for the latter.  
> Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to Ellen Kushner.

_Display is as false as it is costly.  
\- Benjamin Franklin _

 

When Alec came home, he was pleased about something. He wandered around the front room, touching things and smiling to himself, not yet ready to broach the topic. Alec had never been given to explaining himself, not if he could think of a way to cloak reality in cynicism and witty comments. Richard continued his duel with an imaginary opponent, who moved slightly faster than anyone Richard had ever actually fought. It wasn't quite the same as having a real sword to press against, and he missed the recoil that came with crashing against an opponent's blade, but he made up for it by giving his opponent all the tricks and skills he'd seen.

Alec flung himself on the chaise lounge and briefly pretended to watch. Richard stepped back and raised his arm- perhaps his opponent was tall, with a longer reach- and waited. Asking Alec questions was more likely to keep him from a topic than encourage him; he never liked to admit that anything was important.

"You'll never guess what's happened," Alec said, as if he'd just thought of it.

Richard thought of unusual things that might please Alec, and lunged toward the wall, chipping off a flake of plaster. "The Hill is burning?"

"No," Alec said, then paused and laughed, as the idea struck him more fully. "Though some might say it will end the same as if it were. My grandmother's died."

Richard slowed his practice to look over at Alec: he was stretched out with an arm hanging off the back of the chaise lounge; his boots, still on, were up on the cloth. He didn't look upset, but with Alec it was sometimes hard to tell. "I'm sorry. Will you miss her?"

Alec waved a hand, shooing away the words. "Of course not. I hated her." He chewed the knuckle of his thumb, studying the ceiling abstractly. "The funeral's tomorrow. Do you want to go?"

"I thought you hated her." Richard came to a stop and shook out his arms and wrists, then pulled the front of his shirt away from his chest; he was sweating.

"I did. But my family will be there; they'd be outraged if I came, and moreso if I brought you." Alec glanced at Richard and his smile deepened. He dropped his head to rest against the back of the chaise lounge, arching his neck as he did so in a way that could have been accidental, and shifted to make room next to him. Even as he turned his chin away, Alec kept his eyes on Richard, his expression inviting beneath the fingers still held to his mouth. "You could kill a few of them, I'd appreciate that. Perhaps one of them will have been stupid enough to leave me something in their will: I'd buy you something. A new sword. Would you like that?"

Richard set the sword he was already holding on the table and came to stand by Alec. "I don't need a new sword."

Alec reached up for a kiss and pulled Richard down with him, rearranging himself so that he was closer to lying than sitting. He began to work the ties of Richard's clothing, murmuring low into the hollow of his throat, "Then I shall buy you a great useless one, with a pretty handle all covered with jewels and ornaments. You could wear it when we go out; it will make you a better bauble to accompany me."

Richard smiled, gathering Alec into his arms to better kiss him. "Am I your bauble, then?"

"Surely you didn't think I was yours?" Alec sat back just enough to tilt his head haughtily and set his shoulders. He made a sweeping motion over himself, exaggerating his aristocratic drawl. "Look at me, Richard: clearly I am far too useful to be merely an ornament."

Richard pulled him back, laughing, and took advantage of the loose opening of Alec's shirt to taste his neck, his collarbones, tugged it to the side to touch the curve of his shoulder. Alec's long fingers were in his hair, and his breath was warm on Richard's ear; they tangled their legs together, beginning to struggle against one another. Richard untucked Alec's shirt and pressed his hands to the warmth of the skin beneath. Alec had already discarded Richard's shirt, and he bit Richard's shoulder, then licked the mark he'd made, his tongue seeming very hot. With his hands on Alec's back, Richard traced up the bumps of his spine, was rewarded when he felt the sharp line of the shoulderblades jump when Alec gasped, and the rumble afterward when he laughed.

He touched Alec's face, brushing a thumb across his mouth, and Alec opened his lips to suck on it. He looked lazy, and Richard liked to see him at ease enough to joke, to say ridiculous things for amusement instead of provocation. "Must someone be the ornament?" Richard asked, to encourage him.

Alec captured Richard's hand and laced their fingers together, kissing the side of the palm before pulling it away. "How egalitarian of you," Alec said, his voice so low it was nearly a purr. His green eyes were heavy-lidded, and he slid a leg between Richard's thighs, wrapped his arms around Richard's neck and breathed hot air onto his cheek. "We could take turns. What do you want to be today?"

Richard answered the challenge in Alec's tone instead of the question in his words, turning his head to kiss him. They rolled on the chaise lounge, or as much as they could, making use of what little space there was to fit together better. They ignored the knock on the door the first time, and the second, when it was accompanied by a boy's voice calling a greeting.

The third time, though, he added, "Lord Campion? The, um, lady? I mean, the woman downstairs said you were here. I have a letter for you, and it's very important."

Alec froze, and his hands on Richard tightened to pinching, but his voice was angry. "God_damn_ Marie. How the hell did she learn that name, anyway?"

"Answer the door, or he's likely to use it again," Richard said, as explaining the nature of gossip in Riverside to Alec was unlikely to be productive.

Alec extracted himself grudgingly. Richard took advantage of the extra space on the chaise lounge to spread out, and Alec stopped to throw him a disdainful glare, though it was hardly Richard's fault, before shaking the shirt off his shoulders to the floor. Thus clearly interrupted, Alec jerked open the door and snarled, "What?"

The boy stammered something incomprehensible in reply, though whether it was because Alec was angry or half-naked, Richard was sitting too far away to tell. Alec took a letter from him and ripped the paper in opening it, a large red seal cracking apart in his carelessness. He read it quickly, the anger hardening in his face, and looked from it to the boy outside the door. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"I- no."

Richard sat up. "Alec, what's the matter?"

Alec ignored him, crushing the paper in his fist. "Who gave you this? It's ridiculous; I won't believe such a stupid idea." Richard went to his side, but Alec whirled to face him before he could touch his shoulder, the skin of his face tight and pale. Richard coaxed the paper from his hand, sparing a glance for the boy outside the door; he didn't wear the livery of any house, so he wasn't a page. Just some child they'd found who would go into Riverside for a copper.

Alec opened his hand suddenly, dropping the letter. He lifted his chin and said, in his most offhand voice, "She's named me her heir."

Richard let the paper fall to the floor. "But you don't want it."

Alec shrugged, looking away, seemingly bored beyond expression. "Don't be silly, Richard. Why would I not want to be the Duke Tremontaine? Consider the money, if nothing else." He flapped a hand at the boy, cursorily superior. "Tell them I accept. I'll be up in a few days, I suppose; tell them not to send anyone to bother me until then."

The boy ran off, and Richard doubted he would take any message back; he probably just wanted to be away from Alec, who was off-putting if you weren't used to him. Richard shut the door behind him. He left his hand against the frame, and looked at Alec; Alec stood casually, but with his arms crossed, as if to stop his hands from shaking. He'd gotten better at controlling his reactions since Richard had first met him. It was hard, still, not to go to him and touch him immediately, coax him back to cheerfulness, but Richard knew Alec preferred to support himself, when he could. "Don't accept it. You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Richard said.

Alec looked at him, angry somewhere far beneath his cool expression. "I can choose to be the Duke, or I can choose to be the man everyone knows was the Duke Tremontaine but who preferred to slum in the gutters and pretend to be poor. I'm not a fool."

His hands clenched on his arms, and then Richard did step to him, but Alec wouldn't be comforted.

***

The next morning, Alec woke before Richard. That was routine, but he wasn't reading by the fireplace, and he wasn't in the courtyard teasing Marie, and Richard suspected he wasn't out buying breakfast. He might have been doing something perfectly safe, but Richard dressed quickly and went looking, and found himself not at all surprised when he saw Alec insulting a broad, red-faced man. Alec wasn't even doing a good job of it; Richard heard him say something about the man's mother, but it wasn't particularly clever. It got what Alec wanted, though: the man reached back while Richard was still on the other side of the room and hit Alec hard enough to snap his head to the side.

If Alec cried out, Richard didn't hear it over the roaring in his own ears. He saw very clearly Alec turn his head slowly back, licking his lip where it had split. "Is that all?" he said, his movements calm, but his eyes glittering in his face, furious. "Don't you have a sword, a knife? You idiot, can't you do something more? You've wasted my time!" And then he was shouting over Richard's shoulder as he came between Alec and the stranger.

Richard's jaw was too tightly closed for him to speak, but he raised his sword, and the man understood the message. He stepped back and reached to his side for his weapon; Richard gave him just enough time to draw it before he slammed his sword against the blade, catching it and flipping it out of the man's hand so that it flew in a silver arc toward the watching crowd, and it was still settling noisily against the floor when Richard drew his sword back out of the man's chest.

The man hit the floor in a heap, the sound of it heavy in the silence. He hadn't even had time to look surprised; no one had made any bets, and they began to complain loudly. Richard wiped his sword across the man's shirt; Alec behind him was silent.

When Richard turned to him, Alec hadn't even moved, still pressed tight to the wall he was backed against as though someone invisible was holding him there. There was a line of blood bright on his lower lip, and Richard irrationally wanted to tell Alec that he should be more careful. He stepped toward him, but Alec flinched, disgust crawling across his features. "Don't touch me," he said. He looked more naked than Richard had ever seen him. "It's so easy for you, isn't it? Death. You'll kill everyone but me." Alec shuddered, and he made a noise so that Richard thought he would vomit, but it was only laughter. "Leave me alone so that I can die."

"No. I don't want to," Richard said, frustrated.

"I hate you," Alec said. Anger had twisted his face, made him ugly with pain. "I hate you. You're the only thing that stops me, you're the only thing that-" He screwed his eyes shut and turned away, lips drawn back to bare his teeth. Richard was very conscious of the other people in the tavern, of people speaking about him, and even more of how they stared at Alec, like he was part of a show. It wasn't right; no one should see him without his veneer of disdain. His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, but even if he killed them all, Alec would still have been exposed.

"I can't stand it here. Anywhere." Alec said, into the pause after his last words that Richard hadn't filled. He sounded like he was having an argument with someone, and his hands opened and closed on air. "Everything's the same."

"Then it doesn't matter where you are," Richard said, though he wasn't certain Alec had been speaking to him.

Alec turned to him and snarled, "Do you even listen to what I say?"

Richard shrugged slightly. Alec stared hard at him, then snorted, lifting his hand to cover it. "It's probably better that way." He stared wide-eyed at the blood that came away on his fingertips, smearing it with his thumb.

Richard took Alec's arm and led him past the crowded, dirty tables and the people who stared at them like they were actors, not even waiting till they were out of earshot to begin discussing the show. When they were far down the street, and no one was watching them, Richard took Alec's face- carefully, because he was shaking- and kissed him. He tasted strongly of blood, like metal or earth. "Richard," Alec said, and choked, clutching at his arms. "You know I don't mean any of it."

"I know," Richard said, smoothing back his hair. Alec buried his face in Richard's neck and held him, breathing hard. It was early for Richard still, and the sunlight seemed too pale, the streets and buildings not quite right, all the shadows cast in the opposite direction from what he usually saw.

Finally, Alec's muscles loosened, and he began to laugh. "Why on earth did she make me her heir? I'm going to be terrible at it."

"Perhaps. It will be interesting, though." Richard felt his own muscles loosen, accepting that Alec was not dead, nor nearly so, that he wouldn't be too late to prevent his friend's self-destruction.

Alec leaned back on his heels and smirked, looking nearly normal. "Oh, it will. What a good thing that it's too late for her to change her mind."


End file.
